I twisted the cap off another seltzer, the sound crisply snapping through the room filled with dice rolls and murmurs. Every chuckle from the table grated on me, echoing through the hollow chamber of my wasted Friday night.

Across the room, the pimply-faced kid with hair begging to be cut scribbled notes like his life depended on it. What was he planning on majoring in again? Civil engineering? I snorted silently. I could just picture him buried under a mountain of textbooks, completely clueless about the real world. "Cut your hair, wash your face," I muttered under my breath, barely audible over the disdain buzzing in my own head.

Next to him sat a girl who looked like she had just wandered out of a Disney movie—absurd, with her hair too red and perfect and her dress screaming for attention. Yet, something about her pulled at me. I remembered she was pre-med, all brains and no chill. Maybe I should talk to her again. After all, I had beer. I wasn’t 21 yet, but I had a fake ID. How could she not find me cool.

Beside her, slumped like a sack of potatoes, was the dude I called potbelly. Seriously the guy’s belly spoke volumes about his love affair with junk food. "Lay off the Doritos, dude," I thought, eyeing the orange dust on his fingers. He was community college for computer programming—such a dork?

Then there was my sister, the reason I was stuck here. She stood out, not belonging with this crowd at all. She was everything they weren’t—athletic, sharp, stunning. Yet here she was, choosing these losers over anyone else. I knew why; she felt safe with them, the simplicity of being with people who expected nothing from her but to be herself. After last year's ordeal, how close she was to losing everything. I could understand and even sympathize, or was it empathize? I couldn’t keep that psychobabble straight. But understanding didn’t stop me from wishing she aimed higher.

Just then, she caught my eye and beamed a smile that lit up the dim corner I brooded in. "Thank you," her lips formed the words silently, and warmth flooded through me, stark against the chill of my drink. Maybe she'd find some real friends in college, ones who'd appreciate her and maybe even a cute one she could set me up with. By then, I'd be running the restaurant, maybe stepping into the cage for some fights—Chad, the ultimate catch.

But her attention shifted back to her boyfriend, the leader of this geek squad. My mood soured instantly. The guy was everything his friends weren’t—polished, composed, me perfect. He had the looks, the physique, and a future in soccer at a university. Again Mr. Perfect, too perfect, and that made my skin crawl.

I took another swig, my gaze lingering on my sister’s smile, now directed at someone else, someone I couldn’t bring myself to trust. Despite the camaraderie and laughter around the room, I felt like an outsider. My disdain for this whole scene was a barrier I couldn’t quite overcome.

I just didn’t trust the guy. He was too good-looking and too tall—whoever met a Korean guy that was over six-foot-three? It’s unheard of. And he laughed way too much, like everything was funny and the whole world was filled with joy. It was exhausting being around him.

I guess if he weren’t dating my sister, I wouldn’t actually mind him, but nobody was good enough for her, and after what happened last time, I wasn’t trusting anybody, and I didn’t think she should either. Not this soon at least, not after she almost lost everything.

I was contemplating how to figure out if Bo was legit or not when I saw it. It looked like a translucent piece of paper hanging in the air, the lettering in some cartoonish font: “Surprise invasion has begun.”

“Holy shit, did you see that?” came the pimply voice.

“I did too,” others chimed in, all talking at once. They all saw it.

Bo took charge instantly. He sent Potbelly, the lazy kid, to check the windows to see what was going on. My sister went with him. They came back looking relieved. “There isn’t really anything happening out there. Everything looks fine,” she reported.

But her face was worried. “What does that mean then? What do you guys think?”

Nobody could decide anything. They all just stood there thinking about what it could be. The pretty girl in the ridiculous princess dress pulled out her phone and tried to dial. After a second, her face went pale. “The phones are down,” she murmured.

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“That’s weird,” said pimple guy.

Bo stuck his hands out, trying to calm everyone. “It could be anything. Let’s try and stay busy.” He then started assigning people to jobs. One person was on phone duty, another was ordered to fill up as many empty water containers as they could find.

Others were tasked with gathering up some food and any other supplies. When he had handed out jobs, he came to me and said, “Can you hang with your sis and make sure she’s okay?”

This kind of pissed me off. I know he was just trying to be helpful and he apparently liked her, but she was stronger than he thought.

He must’ve seen how mad I was because he raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I know she can handle it, but trauma can be fickle. I assume she’s gonna be fine and I believe in her, but I’d rather be safe.”

This placated me a bit. Maybe he really was her knight in shining armor. In my head, I turned to go follow my sister. It was then that the second message appeared. “Invasion failed. World remains neutral. A champion has arisen.”

Another message followed: “Determining World Tier. Initiating scan.”

After a few seconds, another message appeared: “Congratulations, world is assigned tier alpha. System integration is required. Congratulations, your world will be integrated. Invasion beginning in five minutes.”

As I tried to make sense of it all, the room was heavy with a mix of panic and confusion. "Holy shit," muttered Pimple Face, breaking the uneasy silence.

Princess, looking terrified, voiced what we were all thinking. "Who or what's getting invaded? Is it just here, or is it... I don't know, everywhere?"

We all paused, the gravity of our situation sinking in. Then Bo, ever the leader, speculated, "It could be just here, but I think it’s probably everywhere. The phones being out makes no sense. Neither does this text we're all seeing, but they make more sense if it’s happening everywhere."

I found myself nodding despite my reservations about Bo. Maybe he was right.

"What do we do then?" I found myself asking out loud, surprising everyone, including myself. I hadn't said much since I got here.

"Hey Chad, forgot you were here," my sister teased, coming over to hold my hand. "I’m glad."

I squeezed her hand back. "I don’t think this invasion seems like a good thing for us," Bo said, stating the obvious.

"That’s why you lead the misfits," Pimple face joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Bo nodded grimly. "It’s obvious."

Pimple Face, quick to think on his feet, suggested, "Do you have anything that we can use to add to the structural integrity of this place?"

Bo shook his head. "Some nails, I guess, but nothing really to nail to."

"Okay," Pimple Face decided, "we should definitely move some furniture in front of the windows and doors. Maybe leave one open just in case we need to leave, but keep something close by we can use to barricade."

"We can do that," Bo agreed.

"What about weapons?" Princess asked, her voice shaky.

"I mean, I have tennis rackets, but I don’t think they’ll hold up very long. Actually, I used to play baseball. I think I have a few bats in the garage. Oh, and my grandpa was a hunter. There might also be a gun with some bullets in it. You guys get to work on the windows and doors."

"I’ll come too," my sister added, letting go of my hand. "It might be a lot to carry."

The next few minutes were a blur of activity. I found myself moving furniture with Princess. After shifting a particularly heavy dresser, she looked at me and smiled. "I’m glad you’re here," she said, her cheeks flushing red.

She had shoulder-length red hair and freckles. I had always thought she was pretty, but in that moment, she looked beautiful. High school might have been an awkward phase for her but her next phase would not be. I should mark my territory soon I thought and immediately scolded myself.

I smiled back, "I had nothing else to do." Her smile faltered immediately. "Just kidding," I added quickly. Why do I say stuff like that? Her smile returned, forgiving but not as warm as before. I knew I'd have to work to get it back.

Just then, another message appeared, sending a cold shiver down my spine: “Congratulations, due to the extremely high potential of the world, the invasion has been increased by 100%.” A knot formed in my stomach, and I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of dread. The message seemed to hover before my eyes, and I swallowed hard, trying to brace myself for what was coming, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The message continued, invasion forces will begin entering the world momentarily. Wild card hunters to follow."

"Oh farts," Potbelly responded, his voice devoid of humor.

Bo's voice cut through the mounting chaos, urgent and sharp. "Okay, we've gotta move—now!" His eyes flicked rapidly between us as he held up two bats, an axe, and his grandpa's hunting rifle, his hands trembling slightly. "Who can handle what?" The weight of responsibility echoed in his strained voice, highlighting the gravity of our sudden plight. I immediately claimed the axe. Its solid heft seemed reassuring, as if I could actually do some damage with it if I had to. The bats went to Potbelly, who looked like he had wanted the axe too, and Pimple Face.

Princess's hand shot up, her voice a mix of determination and fear. "I'll take the rifle," she declared, louder than necessary. Her eyes were wide, a flash of vulnerability showing through as she added, "My dad taught me to shoot—I'm a good shot." When Bo tossed her the rifle, her hands clasped around it with a firmness that betrayed her attempt to appear calm. She checked the chamber with a practiced flick, her movements precise yet visibly fueled by adrenaline. I couldn't help but find the whole thing very hot. How had I not noticed how cute she was before?